There are three things you should know about my day:
1) It’s Friday.
2) I got to go into work late.
3) While at work, I had to assemble a piece of furniture.
The first is universal, the second is lucky, and the third is capable of canceling out the pleasure of the other two. Oh, the project started out just fine, as all bad ideas do. I sliced open the box, pulled everything out, and got cozy on the floor with all the necessary ingredients: a rubber mallet, a screwdriver, and the recently unboxed parts — including the deceptively labeled ‘Assembly Instructions’. Which is where the project hit the skids. Because as it turns out a job illustrating for this particular company does not require an actual working knowledge of basic drawing skills. My friend Christa has freshman art students who can draw better diagrams than these. Let’s take the ‘cord management system’, for example. Despite the fancy name, which must have required at least mild ingenuity on the part of the writers, the illustrators did not deem it necessary to actually label it on the assembly diagram, which is just not fair. This left me to guess, and guessing + me + hardware = trouble. Which is why it took me over an hour and assistance from a friend with an honest-to-God engineering degree to finally get the thing fully built. Even he was bemused by a few of the directives, so I finally ended up skipping several of the more confusing ones. So far the cart is still standing and the world hasn’t crashed to a halt, so I think I’m safe.
Okay, I know I’ve been known to hyperbolize on occasion and I sense that you think I’m doing so now, but I assure you I’m not. And so, for your viewing pleasure, I’ve scanned step one. There are seven more where that came from, but I think this one gets the point across nicely. Just click on the photo if you’d like a larger version. It still won’t make sense, but at least you can say you tried. You can even attempt to find where the elusive ‘cord management system’ is if you’re feeling ambitious.
The good news is that sharing this with you has cheered me up considerably. Indeed, now that I’ve begun to move past the irritation-at-self-and-others stage of this trauma and the cart is fully assembled, I have started to develop a little affection for these instructions — even if the illustrators did cheat. I can even appreciate the fact that no one was injured during the cart-building process.
This will never be my favorite company communique, however, despite its total lack of sense. No, that honor is reserved for the single sheet my husband pulled from a box before assembling the simple wooden magazine rack contained within. The page has resided on our refrigerator ever since:
Ha! I love the caution about the smell. That is too funny. I’m a moron when it comes to projects that require assembly. I’ll get it done, but it will take me considerably longer than it would take your average person with brains. Could make this Saturday interesting as we’re having furniture delivered that includes a bed and a tv stand that we actually have to assemble ourselves. Joy.
I love the second caution also. Fantastic!
Now for what you were assembling. I get the cord wrap. It’s like the part on a vacuum cleaner that you swivel down to unwrap the cord in one fell swoop. Only probably yours doesn’t swivel. But I see nothing that makes sense with the cord management system. And did you seriously install something called a “3 receptacle power tap” that sounds like an electrical outlet? That seems extreme for an “assembly required” cart. And this is from a master assembler. I bow to your ability to complete this cart.
LOL! I think you got the wrong instructions with your cart. Too darn funny.
I’ve been there with you on items having to be assembled with terrible instructions. I’ve posted on my blog about my various assembly purchases. Sometimes the pictures are better than the instruction. And in most cases, I seems to miss one step which results in the furniture missing a rung which hmm, wasn’t needed anyway.
I’m glad you were able to assemble despite what the instructions said. I still trying to figure out why you needed a cord management system.
Love the “cautious” sign as opposed to it being a caution.
Yeah, Courtney, I’m the same way. I was kind of embarrassed when the engineer across the hall applied a little logic and got some of the reluctant cart parts to cooperate. It seemed so logical in retrospect. And lots of luck with the TV stand. May it be unusually cooperative.
Exactly, Jenifer. And, no, it doesn’t swivel. In fact, I thought that’s what they meant about the ‘cord management system’ — until I read directions for assembling it afterward, making them mutually exclusive. Oops. And, yes, the cart contained an electrical outlet that I had to install. That all happened in step one. It was, thank goodness, the trickiest part, so I got it over with.
Dru, that is entirely possible! Actually, it came with FOUR sets of instructions, all of which appeared identical but contained somewhat different pictures of the finished cart. That in itself made me rather suspicious. And I’m with you on missing parts not being that important in retrospect. I mean, who actually needs the shelf parts of bookshelves, right?
bad drawings *and* written by someone who speaks english as a second language? looks like you hit the jackpot with this one!
how do you manage to spell AFTER wrong?
I’m lousy at assembling furniture so I ask my son to do everything for me that needs assembling. He complains about the instructions but he does a good job. And love the smell warning! lol
thanks for visiting my blog!
Emily, I know it’s silly, but ever since we found the Cautious sign several years ago, the first thing I do when I open a new product is flip to the instruction manual, hoping that it will either be perfectly clear or else will make no sense whatsoever. The first is helpful, the second is, at least, good for a laugh.
Liz, all I can think is that they typed it wrong because the next word started with an e, too, but really I have no idea. The funny thing is that the person who wrote it was probably elected because s/he had the best grasp of English.
Diane, that’s so great! Now you don’t have to do the assembling, and your son gets to be comfortable with handywork. Nice system.
You had a rubber mallet, so I think that’s the most important thing–it lets you beat the snot out of something with very little sound involved. Great for not attracting witnesses, er, bystanders.
My sympathies on the instructions. It actually makes me nostalgic for the IKEA instructions with the little pictures of people included–very friendly.
And the Cautious? Priceless. I can see why you kept it. 🙂
I hate assemblying almost as much as I hate setting foot at a car dealership. My hat is off to you – you tackled those ridiculous instructions with far less backup than I would have needed. I cringe when I must purchase something that says “some assembly required.” Yeah, right. There’s some and then there’s some. Luckily, I’ve got a hubby who can put anything together (and most often does so without paying any attention to the instructions.)
I’m curious how the wooden magazine rack has held up with such an eloquent note included. lol
I hope there’s no further assembly jobs in your future! Have a great weekend!